


Merman's Kiss

by owlymerlin



Series: The High Seas in Orsterra [1]
Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, mermaid au, olberic and erhardt is only kinda hinted at
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-10-26 03:06:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17737814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owlymerlin/pseuds/owlymerlin
Summary: Cyrus found himself on a pirate ship, who inconsequently attacked and boarded another ship holding some strange cargo aside from the usual rum, treasure, and food. No, this ship held a merman within a tank.





	1. The Scholar's New Study

Cyrus expected to learn a great many things upon the ship for merchants, but never would he have thought the ship was actually a pirate ship. The moment they were clear of shore, those who were meant to be taken as prisoners were grabbed and brought down below deck. Cyrus was one of them, or rather had been. The pirates found a use for Cyrus, recording their tales, and keeping track of their finances. Apparently, one of their former crew members was underhanded and never gave anyone the proper amount. He was sure the bit of dried blood against the wood near where he currently sat was from his predecessor.

The rocking of the boat was something to get used to, but he had certainly become accustomed to it. The cabin he was now in was the quarters of his predecessor, who left him a makeshift desk, cloth hammock, and a few other essentials for bookkeeping. There was a window he could open if he wanted some fresh air and didn’t want to venture above, but the port had been closed along with locking his door earlier that morning. The cap’n had found their next target and didn’t need a scholar to get in the way, nor did he want an enemy making their way down here either. While Cyrus certainly appreciated the notion, he could hold his own in battle if need be, though he supposed a fireball was a little out of the question on a wooden vessel such as this one. Still, the battle sounded rough as Cyrus was left to wait. Only when there were jovial cheers and the pounding feet had faded, did Cyrus hear the lock to his room be undone and that was a few hours ago.

“Ya’know, it’s kinda strange yer not afrai’ of us or nothing,” the ship’s cabin boy said as he leaned against the frame of the doorway, bringing Cyrus out of his thoughts.

“Why should I be, Peter? I get to travel and your captain lets me go ashore when I need to. Not to mention you have tales that need to be written down.”

Most would quake in their boots, he knew that and yet, the excitement about being on a pirate ship without the worry about being cut down meant he could fully enjoy their company instead. Already he filled two volumes full of stories, though he wondered if a few of them were rather flourished with nonsense if only to get more attention.

“Yer a strange one, prof.” Peter left an apple on the makeshift desk Cyrus. “Speakin’ of strange, they say there was something pretty special on the last ship we boarded. Thought to let you know before the cap’n tells us no one can get near it.”

“It?”

Now that did hold some promise.

“Yeah, though not really sure what ‘it’ is.”

“I see. Is it on deck?” Cyrus asked as he blew on the drying ink of his newest tome.

“Fer now.”

With the information passed along, Peter shrugged and went back up on deck, not wanting to get yelled at for shirking his duties.

Cyrus waited only long enough for the ink to dry so as not to smudge if left alone. Gathering the rest of his supplies, lest the crew think it funny to steal and stash it everywhere, Cyrus put them away. There was certainly a commotion up on deck from sounds of muffled voices and shouts from none other than the cap’n himself. Making his way up, Cyrus used the wall to keep balance, the apple in the other hand.

The fresh sea air felt cool against his face as the sunshine made the scholar squint. When was the last time he had been up on deck? A few days perhaps? Peter had been bringing him meals every so often. As if on cue, his stomach growled. Cryus munched on the apple, spotting a familiar face among the crowd.

“Olberic, what is all the commotion about?” Cyrus asked, standing near the larger man. How he ended up as a pirate Cyrus had yet to find out, but he figured it would be a tale he would never hear with how quiet the man was about his past.

“We seem to have found a mer-....man?” Olberic pointed to the object capturing everyone’s attention that was brought upon deck. “Apparently it was in the captain's quarters of the ship we boarded earlier today. The most valuable thing on the ship, or so the captain says.”

A bitter tone laced Olberic’s words, meaning the man had been at odds with the cap’n yet again. The two always seemed to be arguing, but when it counted, the two would protect each other and the ship. Cyrus had seen it all before countless times since having come aboard the ship. Yet, this was the first time such a query had come about. The object in question, was wooden on three sides, with a third side made entirely of what looked to be glass. It was wider than it was tall, but it was filled quiet highly with water, a bit murky, but there was no mistaking what was in the water.

“Olberic, whatever you have against the cap’n, you really should address it.”

A grunt was his response. One, Cyrus had already seen coming. Whatever past those two shared that Cyrus was not privy to, let the two bicker and stay at each other’s throat without seeming to deal too much damage to their friendship. Still, he disliked it when the two were at odds, it meant trying to follow orders would be difficult.

Cyrus took that as his queue to move forward, getting a better look at what exactly a merman was supposed to be. He had never heard of such a thing before except in old fairy tales, and yet he was curious. There in the tank swam a man with pale skin and silvery hair that shone in the sunlight. Cyrus could hardly help staring at the creature- no, the person in front of him. Where his hips were meant to join to legs, were scales of a lilac shade that only grew deeper in colour the further down the tail it went. Some scales seemed to even glow as the man shifted in the water. The metallic contrast of chains cut through the purple colour, revealing scars from the shackles around his wrists and tail, where scales had been rubbed raw. Sharp green eyes caught Cyrus’s attention as they glared in his direction as if the merman’s predicament was Cyrus’s own doing.

“Alright, everyone stand clear. We’re not exactly sure what it’s capable of.”

Everyone did as they were bade as Erhart stepped forward, blonde hair pulled into a loose ponytail. Olberic hummed, having stepped up behind Cyrus, breaking whatever hold the merman had on the scholar.

“What is that supposed to be mean, Erhardt?” Olberic asked.

“Olberic, it’s captain. And what I mean is I’m not sure if it’s really just a mermaid or a siren. I’ve heard tale of a male siren.” Erhardt wandered up close to the tank, only to receive the same glare Cyrus had gotten. “No one is to be left alone with it until we are certain it’s not a threat to us. We have a ways to go before we get someplace to sell it.”

The captain turned to face his crew, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes played on his lips. It was one that Cyrus had learned to let go instead of asking further questions. Olberic, on the other hand, seemed to shift his weight a little nervously.  

“Might I have a word with you, Erhardt?” Olberic asked sternly, not letting their captain refuse.

“Olberic, you know while we’re on the ship my title is captain, right?” Erhardt smiled but complied to his old friend. “What is it?”

“If I’m to understand this properly, you not only haphazardly decided to go after this ship, but you also just took something on board that could potentially be dangerous? Are you out of your mind?” Olberic towered over the captain, who hardly seemed phased by this fact.

“Olberic, my good man, of course, I took the safety of the crew in mind. Besides, we haven’t had any good bounties the last month. We need-”

“Gods so help me, if that does anything dangerous to the crew I will personally throw him back into the ocean and you along with him.” Olberic knew there was just no reasoning with Erhardt when he thought he was in the right.

“Might I interrupt for just a moment?” Cyrus asked, eyes having found themselves watching the merman’s movements. “I’d like to study him if that’s alright with you? That way there is someone always with him and I can help determine if he is truly just part of the merfolk, or rather something more sinister like a siren as you seem to think Olberic.”

Erhardt blinked before his grin grew wider. “Yes! What a wonderful notion. Olberic, surely you wouldn’t take away the scholar’s new study?”

Taken aback, Olberic relented with a sigh. “Fine, but one wrong move and I swear all three of you are going overboard.”

Erhardt clapped Olberic on the back, clearly glad to have his friend on board. “Though Cyrus, I must reiterate, we are going to sell him, so you’ll only get to study him until then.”

Cyrus nodded, already lost in studying the new creature he thought was a myth.

“I’ll bring him to your room, but I want Peter to stay with you. I don’t trust him alone with you, Cyrus.” Olberic motioned for Peter to follow him. It was clear Cyrus had not heard him as he ran off to make room in the cabin he had been given.

It took all of an hour to get the tank comfortably in the room and another hammock for Peter, who didn’t protest much about being moved into the room. While Peter still had his duties, he had grown fond of Cyrus. Not to mention with the new creature on board, everyone suddenly wanted a peak and used the scholar’s position as leverage. Neither Olberic nor Peter particularly liked that fact, but Peter was good at keeping people at bay. And those who didn’t listen to Peter, where quickly warded off by Olberic, who still didn’t seem to like the idea of having the creature aboard.

Cyrus settled at his desk, green piercing eyes glared at him, but Cyrus paid no mind to the merman, who undoubtedly hated being moved. Peter opened the port, letting the cool breeze into the cabin, but had since left the two to stand guard outside. If anything were to happen, Cyrus was supposed to call for Peter, apparently direct orders from Olberic, the worrywart.

While the scholar certainly wanted to ask several questions, he kept them on the tip of his tongue. He had yet to see the merman actually speak or otherwise do anything but glare. Perhaps he didn’t know their language? Or was it simply that the merfolk did not speak? That would be fascinating to learn, or maybe the man simply didn’t wish to speak with his next captors. Either way, Cyrus wanted him to feel a bit more comfortable, and so left him alone for the time being. He had tales to transcribe, and books still to translate. Not to mention Olberic had asked him if it was at all possible to chart a map, one more detailed than what they currently had. While cartography was not necessarily a skill he had studied in excess himself, he did his best to oblige the quartermaster. His afternoon was filled, and if it weren’t for the sounds of the water lapping at the edges of the tank, or the merman shifting in the water, Cyrus might have forgotten the merman was even there.

Well into the evening Peter brought down dinner for himself and Cyrus, but nothing for the merman.

“Peter, do you think there is some extra fish? I doubt he’s eaten much today or if they even fed him on the previous ship,.” Cyrus asked. He had yet to touch his own meal.

“I can ask,” Peter said. He scarfed down the rest of his food before heading back to the kitchens.

“You do eat fish, don’t you?” Cyrus asked the merman, who had taken up quarters at the back corner of the small tank. A glare was his response. “Right then. I’ll just have to assume that you do. I believe I read it somewhere that you did? Or perhaps I’m mixing it up with something else that roams into the sea. Hmm….I think perhaps in the next port I should see if they have any books on merfolk, though--”

“Got some. The cook looked at me like I was crazy, wanting to feed the thing.”

Peter came back with a few fish wrapped in what looked to be leather, perhaps that was all they had on hand, or the cook didn’t care who the fish was for. Cyrus ignored the latter part of his commentary, not exactly want to encourage such talk, but he knew the crew was scared of the creature.

“D-Do I just give it to ‘im?” Peter asked, green eyes now on him.

“Best I do it before you lose a finger or something.” Cyrus said with a chuckle. “I am slightly taller.”

Thanks to his heeled boots at least.

Cyrus took one of the fish and opened the top of the tank to toss the merman the fish. At first he didn’t move, only eyeing the fish has it slowly sunk further to the bottom of the tank until suddenly the merman lunged forward. Sadly, the chains brought him just out of reach of the fish. The glare was back on Cyrus as if he had done so on purpose.

“Right, we really should take care of those chains.” Cyrus took off his boots much to Peter’s protest.

“Sir, I really don’t thin’ you should be doing what I think you’re abou’ to do.” Peter looked frantically to the door and then back at Cyrus.

“Nonsense, Peter. I’ll be fine, I just have to touch the chains to get them to come undone, though I think we should see about fashioning a key to get them completely off of him.” Cyrus took off his mantle and then his vest, leaving him in soft cotton pants and his usual blouse. “Now, be a lad and help me up.”

Peter relented, knowing that if he got Olberic now, Cyrus would somehow manage to get into the tank anyway. Better now where he could still pull the scholar out if need be. Bringing over the chair from Cyrus’s desk, Peter stood on top of it and then cupped his hands.

“Come on then.”

Cyrus boosted himself up and into the fish tank, only for the merman to scramble away into the corner, tail fanned out as if it was going to offer protection. “Don’t hurt him, I don’t think he understands that we don’t mean to hurt him. But you best get the rest of that fish prepared to throw in it as well.”

Taking a deep breath, Cryus lowered himself into the water. It was certainly salt water when the scholar opened his eyes to try and get a bearing of where the chains were and they started stinging. Finding the chain furthest from the merman, Cyrus muttered the words to the spell into the water, watching at the water heated slightly where the fireball formed and started to melt the chain. The merman, stayed in the corner, watching as the chains slowly melted through. Upon the last chain, closest to where the merman stayed, Cyrus couldn’t react in time thanks to the water. He felt a stinging on his cheek and saw droplets of blood soon spread out into the water. The merman had attacked him, but it was only a scratch as he darted towards the fish.

Once the fish was obtained, the merman went back into his corner and started devouring the fish as if that had been the first thing he had gotten to eat in days. Had the previous ship not fed him? Or did they even think to bother with that sort of thing? Eyes softening, Cyrus came back up to the surface, catching his breath.

“Toss another one in,”  Cyrus said, hoisting himself out of the tank and onto the solid wood. “I think we’ll leave it at that for now though. We don’t want him to get sick.”

Peter wrapped up the remaining fish and brought it back to the cook. Cyrus on the other hand, changed out of his wet clothes, left them to dry by the port window and began to study the merman. “Look, I’m not exactly sure if you can understand me, or if you even want to, but no one will hurt you on the ship, siren or not. You’re safe here in my cabin.”

The sound of crunching bones was all the answer Cyrus got. Peter was a chatter with how he thought Cyrus was brave for going into the water, but the scholar was only partially happy with the results. The chains were still there. Perhaps Olberic might oblige him and hold the merman down a bit so that Cyrus could take the chains off properly, or perhaps they had someone who could pick the locks easily enough? The two shared a few rounds of cards as the merman seemed to settle down for the night.

It had been a long and exhausting day and while there was certainly excitement that day, it was enough for him. Cyrus was lulled to sleep by the sounds of the water lapping in the tank as the ship gently swayed this way and that. When he decided to leave this ship, would he ever get to sleep without the sound of the ocean? Mostly asleep, he could not be sure he heard a soft song being hummed in the room or where it belonged. Both Peter and himself slept peacefully that night, without worry of nightmares.


	2. Deals and Mutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therion finally opens his mouth.

Cyrus woke early in the morning to the sound of water sloshing back and forth rather violently. Was it a storm that no one had warned him or Peter about? No, that didn’t seem right, the boat didn’t seem to be swaying violently, nor was he tipped out of his hammock either. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he sat up in the hammock, glancing towards the wooden tank. There in the gentle, early, morning light, the merman had somehow wedged himself between where Cyrus had left the tank open from unshackling him. The merman froze in his attempt for but a moment before trying even harder to get out of the tank upon seeing Cyrus scramble out of the hammock. There was an unceremonious wet thud when he fell onto the wood.  

“Wait! You shouldn’t do that. You’ll only hurt yourself,” Cyrus kept his distance, his scratch from earlier flaring with a bit of pain, reminding him that the creature was still dangerous. 

“Go fuck yourself.” 

Peter stood stock still as Cyrus did the same. 

“D-Did you just--” 

“Of course I spoke. You really are idiots,” the merman practically dragged himself to the chair in the wake of their stupor. He reached over for Cyrus’s mantle, taking the brooch that normally held it in place. “Look, you can tell your captain whatever the hell you want, I really don’t care, but I’m not staying aboard this ship only to be sold off again. I’ve had enough of all this and finally someone was stupid enough to leave me an opening.” 

He bent the long, thin, metal of the brooch before using it to the start picking the lock. Peter moved first, dashing out of the room and up the stairs. Cyrus on the other hand could only stare, a rare moment of lost words. 

“Great…” the merman muttered seeing the kid flee. He muttered a bit more as he struggled with the shackles. 

“Here,” Cyrus finally said, seeing the shaking hands that held the metal. His expression soft as he came to realise this creature was not just some fish who looked human, but rather someone intelligent and sentient. “Let me help you.” 

Cyrus kneeled down next to the merman, without much regards for his safety. If he lashed out, Cyrus was sure it was because of whatever humans had done to him before, but there was one thing he knew he had to do. Selling him off, after knowing that he was like any other human aside from physical appearance, it would be wrong to do such a person an injustice. He had a feeling Olberic would feel the same. 

“D-Don’t touch me!”

The thin metal was held out, poised in attack. While it certainly would have done some damage, Cyrus doubted it was that effect of a weapon. Still, someone scared was not someone he wanted to entertain for too long. 

“Will you calm down. I just want to burn through the metal, like I did last night.” Cyrus held up his hand, muttering the spell. His hand immeted a warm glow. “It will be faster than trying to pick with something that clearly isn’t working.” 

The merman relented, staring at the floorboards. He used one hand to steady himself, while he held the other for Cyrus. It seemed wanting to gid rid of the shackles overcame whatever pride the merman seemed to had. Gently, Cyrus guided the hand closer and did exactly what he told the merman he was going to do. When he finished with one, the merman gave him the other hand without protest.

“Since you can talk, I assume you have a name? I’d rather not keep thinking of you as just ‘the creature’ or ‘the merman’.” Cyrus’s voice was gentle and soft, not wanting to break the quiet silence of the ship. Either Peter was having a hard time finding Olberic, or perhaps the quartermaster was busy with someone else.

“Who gave you permission to even think about me?” he muttered before glaring at Cyrus. “Why would I give you my name? You just want to study me, and probably do tests or whatever.” 

“I’m not going to do that. I thought I proved that last night by giving you something to eat and freeing you from these chains,” Cyrus said. “There, now, let’s see about your ta--”

“Don’t you dare touch my tail!” The merman recoiled, holding the thin metal blade in his hand as if it was a dagger once again. “I can do it myself….” 

Cyrus raised his hands in defeat and sat back with a sigh so as to give the merman his space. He was a stubborn one, Cyrus would give him that. But stubborn or not, he wouldn’t get far without some form of help. 

“How do you propose to get out of here? You’ll have to climb steps and while I’m sure you’ve been lucky with Olberic not being here yet, he will eventually come.” 

The merman growled in frustration, working on the lock at his tail.  Twice he bent the metal in places. Cyrus figured he would have to get a new brooch when this was over and done. When it was finally off, relief and a brief smile graced his face until the merman seemed to remember he had company. Cyrus had not moved and planned to remain right where he was. The merman rubbed at his raw wrists. He could only imagine the pain the merman had to be in. Salt water with open wounds did not sound pleasant. 

“That big guy is nothing. He’s soft--” 

“He might be soft-hearted, but do you think he’ll listen to you? Who knows what tale Peter has spun and remember what the captain said, you could be a siren in disguise.” 

“Ugh, fine! You want to help me, do whatever you want.” 

The merman curled in on himself clearly in distress. His body shook, but honestly Cyrus could hardly tell you why. Was it the chilly air? Or perhaps it was from the relief of getting out of the tanks? A million thoughts sped through him as he tried to pinpoint the exact answer. 

“I will talk with Olberic, we’ll devise a plan to set you free. In the meantime, let us heal your wrists and tail and let you regain your strength. You will be free before the captain tries to sell you, that I can promise.” Cyrus held out his hand, offering the merman a deal, even if Olberic turned him down. “You’ll need your strength if you’re to survive out in the ocean.”

The merman looked down at the offered hand before looking back up at Cyrus as if to ascertain if this was truly happening or not. If this was some sort of trick, well the merman would just have to figure out a way to get a weapon to use for his protection. If the scholar let down his guard this easily, he could manage it, and if all else failed, well there was always taking the scholar with him. 

“.....Therion.” The merman said, gripped the scholar’s hand, tugging him close. His voice hardly above a whisper, “Go back on your promise, and you’ll never read another one of those precious books again.” 

A shiver ran through Cyrus, feeling Therion’s breath against his ear. The ice cold grip on his arm surprised him. Perhaps mermaids were cold blooded in nature? He simply nodded before pulling back, head slightly dazed. Maybe Therion was more than just a merman after all. Pounding feet broke whatever hold Therion might have or might not have had on Cyrus. Olberic opened the door and stared at the two.

“Albright?”

Well, he was certainly in trouble, if Olberic used his last name instead of his first.

“I’m fine, really. This is Therion, and I believe you and I have some talking to do. But before that, Therion, do you require assistance to get back into the tank? We can leave the top off, but I’m not sure if you can--” 

“Fine.” Therion huffed, but otherwise only the flick of his tail showed his irritation of having been offered help yet again, or maybe it was the idea of being put back in the tank? At the moment the tank was the only place for Therion. 

Olberic raised an eyebrow. Cyrus motioned for Olberic to go ahead, who scooped the merman into his arms with ease. Therion gave an indignant yelp at being picked up so high, but quickly quieted himself. He gripped Olberic’s shoulders as if the man was going to suddenly drop him. Olberic said nothing as he grew closer to the tank, easily carrying Therion’s weight. Cyrus undid the top wooden slab, allowing Olberic to lower Therion back into the water. He clearly hated having to rely on them with the half glare the two of them got as he sank into towards the bottom and back into the corner  he occupied only earlier.

“Alright, what this all about?” Olberic asked, shaking some of the water from his hands. “.....We need to change out that water.” 

“Oh finally noticed, did you?” Therion glared at the quartermaster, who sighed.

“You’ve only been on board a day,” Olberic countered. “We’ll see to it that the tank is cleaned after I speak with Erhardt.”

“The one wants to sell me? Great,” Therion said, drawling out the last word as he sulked. 

Cyrus stepped between the two, hands resting on Olberic’s arm to get the quartermaster’s attention, lest there be another fight. They needed to talk. 

“Now, now. Olberic, let’s go above deck,” Cyrus said. It was best they had their conversation there incase Olberic declined to help, not that Cyrus thought he would. He grabbed his mantel, only just remembering that Therion might still have the thin metal from the brooch, something he would have to speak with the merman about later. 

Stepping onto the deck of the ship, a breeze had Cyrus pull his mantel around his shoulders. If he was cold, Therion would be freezing. He would have to think of a way to warm the poor thing up if Therion needed warmer waters. But at the moment, he needed to think of how to get Olberic on board with his plan. 

“What happened?” Olberic asked, having waited long enough for Cyrus’s reply.

The two faced the ocean as they rested against the railing. Neither looked at each other, but Cyrus knew Olberic would not hesitate in fighting him if he thought Cyrus was compromised. He would need some tact if he was going to prove Therion was not a siren. A small voice questioned though if he was completely sure about that deduction.

“I freed him from his chains last night and I forgot to close the top after we fed him. A simple overlooked action since I had to change clothes. I’m just glad to get all the chains off of him. It isn’t ri--” 

“You were in water w-with that  _ thing _ ? Cyrus, you fool. Do you realise he could have seriously hurt you? Or Peter?” Olberic’s tone was laced with worry, but it was stern. 

“He is not a  _ thing _ , Olberic. But yes, I was in the water with him. I had to release him from the shackles, he couldn’t reach the food,” Cyrus pointed out as Olberic sighed. “As I was trying to state before, it isn’t right to lock him up, Olberic nor can we sell him. He is an intelligent person and one who can communicate. Before Erhardt sells him, we need to free him back into the ocean.” 

Olberic leaned a little more on the railing, shoulders sinking a little. Cyrus was prepared to rebuttal anything the quartermaster might bring up as he squared his shoulders a little.   

“You know what you’re asking of me, right?”

“Aye, but you are also not blindly loyal either, Olberic Eisenberg,” 

Olberick turned around to lean against the railing, letting out a deep sigh. “Why must I always be between you two? If it’s not you, it’s him. Gods help me.”

Olberic ran a hand over his face, seemly tired. It was only then that Cyrus noticed a bit of white peaking through the usual dark hair Olberic slicked back. Had he and Erhardt been the cause?  

“Does that mean you’ll help?” Cyrus asked, a hopeful tone in his voice.

“You swear Therion is no siren?” Olberic asked, looking up at the sky. The internal struggle was there, clear on his face. 

“Yes, I’m fairly certain he is not. Otherwise, he would have tried to stop Peter from running to get you, or me from coming any nearer.”

“Fine, I’ll help. But on one condition. When Erhardt asks, let me do the talking. You speak far too much and when he finds out it was us, well, things will not go so smoothly. I’m sure you are aware of what might happen to you?” Olberic glanced over to the scholar. 

“I’m quite aware of my situation and I know you won’t be able to protect me, friend.” 

“And you would go so far for a crea--er….person you owe nothing to?”

“Aye,” Cyrus said. His resolved showed in the one word answer. 

Olberic nodded. “Then how do you purpose we get him off the ship?”


	3. A different kind of prison

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erhardt is up to something and Cyrus has a nice chat with Therion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Didn't think I forgot about this fic, did ya? Nope! Hope you enjoy it! Comments and critiques are always welcome. I think it will be only a few more chapters long though. I didn't set this up for a very long plot and probably won't try and make it into something long, just as a heads up.

True to his word, Olberic had a few men help him clean the tank Therion sat in. While they did, Therion was forced to sit in a wooden tub filled with fresh salt water. The crew nervously flitted around but did as they were told. Olberic instilled a deeper fear than that of the unknown, but only Olberic handled Therion when it came to getting him out of the tank, though this time, Therion was prepared for it and made no sound.

The crew made a line from the cabin to the edge of the boat where someone dumped the dirty water back into the ocean. When the tank was empty, the same person used a rope to grab fresh water that went down the line to dump it back into the tank once it was thoroughly cleaned. Olberic had some of the deck hands clean the wood and glass down until it no longer held the algae before it was filled with water. He grew frustrated when suddenly the buckets stopped coming. They were close to finishing their task and everyone had other things they should have been doing other than caring for the merman.

“Peter, go see what’s taking them so long,” Olberic said, glancing over at Therion, who seemed to be asleep resting his back against the wall and far out of reach of the scholar and everyone else in the room. If he truly was, he couldn’t say, the merman was an enigma at best. 

Cyrus was among the line to help with the buckets, smiled a little at Olberic. He was glad to be able to count on someone like the quartermaster. If he was honest, their plan to help Therion would only work with both of them working together. If Erhardt could have been reasoned with. Things would be different, but their captain was certainly more of an enigma than Therion, despite what Olberic seemed to think. Not that Cyrus would say so out loud.

“Sir? Umm…..the cap’n wants a word,” Peter said sheepishly when he returned, not meeting either of their eyes. 

Olberic sighed. Of course it was Erhardt. “Come, Cyrus. I might need your help.” 

The two left the line, letting the others fill in their spots as buckets started coming again. 

“Peter, stay here and help them. When it’s finished, everyone is to go back to their usual duties, Peter stay with Therion until I get back” The boy nodded and ran to help. Olberic clapped Cyrus on the back encouragingly. “Relax, Erhardt will think you’re up to something afoul.” 

“Easy for you to say, you can handle Erhardt. I’m afraid I was never good at putting on airs,” Cyrus muttered under his breath. 

“Think think of it as a chess game, don’t show your opponent your hands.” 

Cyrus hummed, trying to do just as Obleric suggested. 

The two sidestepped some of the crew, but Cyrus noted that the ship’s sails were mostly tied up. It was a rather good day for sailing, why did Erhardt not use the wind? Had Olberic used too many men? A nervous prickle started at the nape of his neck.  

Erhardt stood at the helm, a hand on a spoke of the wheel. His face showed no emotion as he stood there, watching the waters out at sea. Olberic knew that look. He shook his head and relaxed. 

“What’s the trouble, Erhardt?” Olberic asked, a half smile playing on lips. 

“Oh come now, Olberic. You know when we took this ship over, you were supposed to call me Captain,” Erhardt laughed a little.

Cyrus relaxed seeing the two banter, putting him at ease. Perhaps the nervous feeling was unwarranted after all. While the ship was a pirate crew, they treated everyone onboard with some decency and Erhardt had entertained Cyrus for far less than to learn about the merfolk.

Olberic laughed with his old friend. “Erhardt, forget the formalities, you know the crew hardly cares for them anyway. So long as the jobs get done and they get paid, they don’t particularly care who is called captain.” 

“For pirates, we certainly don’t plunder all that much or strike fear when we get to ports,” Erhardt said, pouting a little at being dismissed.

“Aye, but you don’t exactly want to be like the usual pirate either, Erhardt.” Olberic pointed out. “Your piracy is more about freedom and doing what you believe is morally right, rather than plundering for the sake of it. Why else do you think we have a crew who listens to both of us instead of trying to pit one of us against the other?” 

“Could it have to do with our previous Captain Werner?” Erhardt asked, eyes narrowing slightly. 

Cyrus shivered at the mention of the previous captain. Werner was the reason Cyrus had been on the ship and taken prisoner. Olberic and Erhardt were the reason he stayed on the ship and wrote the tales from these two. They were different, good-hearted, and yet they couldn’t seem to shake the feeling they needed to be pirates. If things had been different, Cyrus could have seen them be naval officers instead. 

“What are you having the men do?” Erhardt asked, bringing Cyrus out of his thoughts. 

“Allow me,” Cyrus said as he stepped forward. “Earlier this morning, Olberic and I discovered Therion cou--” 

“Therion?” Erhardt looked between them, eyes wide. “You mean it can talk? Fascinating. Do go on, dear, Cyrus.” 

Cyrus cleared his throat. “We found the water not quite to his satisfaction and I concur considering the murky water, so we thought to change it out for fresh water. After all, you’ll want a healthy specimen to sell, or?” 

Erhardt nodded, his attention on the seas again, but Olberic saw the glint in his eyes. Erhardt was up to something. Did he already know the plans for freeing Therion? No. Peter wouldn’t have told Erhardt anything without talking with Olberic first. Not that Olberic wanted to go against his friend, but if Erhardt was going to be adamant about selling Therion, Olberic could not comply. Erhardt was hard to pin down at times. If anything Olberic would talk him down if he somehow knew. Olberic was just worried Erhardt would take the conspiracy a little too close to heart instead of paying attention to what they morally should have done.

“So to get the highest price, you want to make sure he’s well fed and presentable? I see. If tha--”

“Actually, is there anyone on board who might have apothecary skills?” 

Olberic glanced at Cyrus, rather stunned. If it had been anyone else, Erhardt would have put the man in his place.  

“Apothecary? I don’t think so….unless you do Olberic?” Erhardt asked. Olberic shook his head. “Hmm….we could stop by the nearest port, but do we really need--”

“Aye. he has scars and wounds. It would devalue the price of him if you think about it, best to have him all healed.”

Olberic gave Cyrus a warning glance. He was trying to oversell the value Therion was to Erhardt. If this kept going, Erhardt would assume something was wrong. Cyrus seemed to ignore the warning as he watched Erhardt. 

“Very well. We could use the time stock up on some supplies. But, I want guard duty on the ship at all times. We don’t need Therion stolen from us, or anything else we took from the previous ship.” Erhardt smiled. “Olberic can go with you to get whatever you think Therion needs and the men who aren’t on duty can have a night on shore. They’re getting too restless with Therion on board. Those who can’t keep their mouths shut or have loose lips give them guard duty. I’ll stay on the ship as well.” 

“Thank you, I know Therion will appreciate it as well.” Cyrus sighed with relief. 

“So how close have you and Therion gotten? Have you gleamed anything new about the merfolk?” Erhardt asked. Both Olberic and Cyrus froze a little. 

“Aye. His skin was like ice and he seemed to be cold. I believe the merfolk are cold-blooded and need the warmth the sunlight gives the water in order to stay warm. The port should provide enough sunlight, but I’ll be testing ways to keep the water at a more tolerable temperature for him. They can speak out of the water as well as--” 

Erhardt laughed opening. “A-Alright. I get it, you’re learning a lot.” 

A few of the crew members glanced at them before going about their duties. Olberic watched Erhardt wondering what exactly that man was thinking. After everything they had been through, the mutiny of the old captain and making sure they both survived long enough to be able to do so, Erhardt was still a mystery. 

Heat flamed the scholar’s cheeks lightly. “Yes, it would seem, but still not a lot, honestly.” 

“Well, you had better go back to him.” 

Cyrus nodded, seeing that as his dismissal. Olberic stayed at Erhardt’s side, watching Cyrus mutter to himself. Erhardt paid Olberic no mind as he ran a hand through his hair and reset their course slightly. He yelled for a few of the sails to be unfurled now that the merman’s tank was cleaned. Seeing both the captain and the quartermaster at the helm seemed to invigorate a few of the crew members who scrambled a bit quicker than usual to get the orders done. 

“Erhardt, what are you playing at?” Olberic finally asked, not liking the silent treatment he was getting. 

“Whatever do you mean?” 

“....Cyrus and Therion. What are you planning?” Olberic kept his eyes on the crew, not wanting another fight. 

“Why nothing, Olberic. You always seem to think I have something up my sleeve. I think it’s nice Cyrus has something to do and Therion, well, we’ll see about him. I still plan on selling him,” Erhardt said, smiling playfully at Olberic. “We are still pirates after all.” 

Olberic hummed but remained quiet. 

* * *

Cyrus returned to his cabin, seeing Peter with a fish for Therion, who had yet to be transferred back into the water. Therion looked up from eating but didn’t say a word. Peter, on the other hand, looked a bit sheepish as he leaned back a little. 

“I see you’ve made friends with Therion now,” Cyrus said quietly. 

“I-It’s not like that. I just heard his stomach growl, sir,” Peter said, earning him a glare from Therion. He got up, wiping his hands on his breeches. 

“Quite alright, lad. Therion, if you’re not opposed, shall we put you back in the tank?” Cyrus asked, knowing that he would need Peter’s help to do that since Olberic seemed to have stayed behind with Erhardt. 

Therion glanced up, finishing his fish. “Heh, not like I have a choice.” 

Peter glanced at Cyrus who only shrugged. Therion was telling the truth. Cyrus pursed his lips but said nothing as Peter picked the merman up and put him back into the clean water. Therion seemed hesitant at first, but relaxed in the water, but a sharp glare reminded Cyrus that clean water and a few niceties were nothing compared to what he was sure the merman had to endure over the years. Still, it wouldn’t do if he got too attached to the man floating in the tank. It would make letting him go a little harder, not that he would keep the poor thing here on the ship.

“What’s your game?” Therion asked, lazily his tail flicked back and forth. Was he contemplating something? 

“Be mindful of the water Therion.” Cyrus pointed out as a bit of water sloshed over the side. He heard a tsk, but didn’t look at the merman as he settled at his desk. “As for a game, I have no notion as to what you are referring to.” 

“My tank and talking with the big-...Olberic.”

“Ah, well there is no game. I simply wished to make you more comfortable,” Cyrus set out about uncorking an ink bottle, 

“Cut the bullshit,” Therion practically growled. “What are you waiting for? You want me to beg for your help? To get me off this ship so that you can just tell your captain so that I get punished or maybe even something crasser? I know how these ships work.” 

Cyrus’s shoulders slumped. “Therion. I’ll have you know, that since Erhardt had taken over, things have been different on this ship. He and Olberic both don’t work like--” 

“But they want to sell me. So what use is putting me in clean water and trying to bandage me up? No one asked for your help.” Therion sunk into the tank, still glaring at Cyrus when the scholar finally looked up.

“Therion, please. You’re acting like a spoiled child. You don’t really know those people.” Cyrus sighed. “As for not asking for help, you never would have in the first place. I was the same when I was first brought on board.” 

Therion just glared, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. Cyrus shook his head. Olberic and Erhardt had been there for him in trying times, but he had yet to really talk to anyone else on board. He was far from the same man when he first was aboard the ship. 

“I promised Olberic and I would free you and we will. Erhardt is doing what he needs to do to keep the crew from trying to do exactly what he and Olberic had done…..with my help.” Cyrus dipped the quill pen he had and started writing a few things in the log book. 

“What did you do?” Therion asked, settling down in the water. 

“Why would you care. You will be leaving anyway,” Cyrus asked, his hand never pausing. 

“I’m bored.” 

Cyrus could head the shrug of Therion’s shoulder in that voice. Of course, he was being nonchalant about it all. Maybe Therion liked to hear stories? Wet hands wouldn’t be advised for the tales he had written so far, so perhaps a verbal account would have to do. 

“Fine. But then I must really get back to work.” Cyrus turned his chair to face Therion. Gracefully, he crossed his legs one over the other. “When I first came on the ship, I was under the impression this ship was a merchant ship. It turned out to be a pirate ship and a few of the people along with myself were supposed to be sold into slavery.”

Cyrus held his hand to stop Therion from interrupting. 

“This was before Erhardt and Olberic took over. Those two made sure we were all fed and had what we needed to survive. Sadly, there were only two of us left by the time Erhardt and Olberic had successfully killed the former captain. Needing to keep up pretenses, he gave both of us a choice. Stay with the crew and be useful or find ourselves going overboard. Thinking back on it, I assume it was more of a necessity to gain the trust of the crew. I doubt Olberic would have really let Erhardt throw us overboard with nary a thing. Still, the two have been running a tight ship, making sure those who were loyal to the old captain were slowly weeded out until you see the crew now.” 

“You’re just a prisoner here then? Some glorified pet that does as your so-called captain says?”

Cyrus shook his head. “Not quite. I have plenty of freedom and Olberic keeps up the pretense by going with me when I need something from the shores. If I wished to get away, I doubt the man would really try and stop me.” 

“So you’re not a prisoner? You just pretend to be one?” Therion’s glare returned.

“I suppose? Or perhaps the better way of putting it, I let myself be a prisoner,” Cyrus smiled a little. 

“But why? Why would you want to do that?” Therion shut up in the water, clearly angry that the man before didn’t realise that being free was a luxury he never had. Or maybe he did and that was why he was telling Therion all of this. That there would be no comradery in being imprisoned together.

“I…. I haven’t the foggiest notion as to why I’m afraid.” Cyrus shrugged. “I never felt the need to leave. The crew is friendly enough once you get to know them, and the open sea is nice. I don’t have to return to a society that only sees you as being a prick and nothing more than a fountain of information they want to see. At least here I can find the truths I want.” 

Therion frowned, the anger simmering down a little. “So you have a different kind of prison, eh?” 

Cyrus watched Therion’s face, the emotions rather intriguing. Whatever Therion thought about this answer, it at least seemed to quell the anger for now. Turning back to his paperwork, he dipped the pen back into the ink. 

“I suppose I do, but being at sea like this I don’t have to worry about that. Besides, if I had not chosen to stay, we would never have met. And I for one, am glad we did.” 

Therion gave a grunt in reply, but settled back into the water, ever watchful.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. This fanfic will probably update slowly. As for Olberic and Erhardt, I'll make a little spin-off for them, I just need to decide if I want to make a one-shot or not. I love AUs and I really these characters, so hopefully I'll be able to write up a few good fics for the fandom to enjoy.


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